Love is a fragile little flame (it can burn out)
by Poetgirl925
Summary: Part 5 of The Head and the Heart. AU Skyeward. Skye and Grant dance around their feelings for one another, and the tension with Quartermain comes to a head over the holidays. After Skye receives a higher security clearance, a dangerous mission gone wrong raises the emotional stakes for everyone who cares about her.
1. Chapter 1

May successfully blocked Skye's kick, which was a little wide. "Pull it in a little," she advised the younger woman. "Your body is completely under your control. Use it. Don't react – make your opponent react."

Skye kicked out again, and this time the movement was tighter and much more controlled.

May blocked it and turned a little, forcing Skye off balance. However, Skye recovered beautifully and kicked again, this time without signaling her intentions. May blocked it, but she got much closer to making contact.

"Good," May said, surprised. "You have a natural ability for this, Skye."

Skye laughed. "No one is more surprised than me." She let loose a series of punches, a few of which were off target.

May blocked her easily. "We need to work on your upper body strength, but you have good agility and balance, and your reflexes are excellent. You can be a field agent, Skye, if that's what you want. You just need to get out of your own head first."

They continued sparring for another ten minutes, until a movement off to the side caught May's attention. She frowned when she saw Quartermain leaning against the door, watching them. She could pinpoint the exact moment when Skye saw him because the woman completely lost focus and failed to execute a simple defensive move she'd mastered the week before.

May pulled up and held out a hand to Skye, who was now lying on the mat. "That's enough for today."

They walked over to the benches, where May tossed Skye a bottle of water and reminded her to stay hydrated.

Skye nodded and busied herself with her gym bag. It was apparent she was trying to ignore Quartermain's presence, but when he entered the room and approached them, her fingers stilled.

"There's a meeting upstairs in conference room B at eleven," Quartermain told Skye. "Hand asked that you be there."

"Okay." Skye's tone was clipped. She lifted her bag and looped it over her shoulder.

"You're improving," Quartermain added abruptly.

Skye ignored that. "Thanks May. I'll see you at dinner tonight."

May nodded and watched as she left the room as fast as she could without actually running. Then she turned her attention to Quartermain. "Come for a rematch?"

She'd like nothing more than an excuse to lay Quartermain out. Every time she saw that look on Skye's face – the one that spoke to years of abandonment issues – she felt the urge to punch him. She'd given in to that urge once during a training session five years ago, right after they discovered Quartermain was Skye's father. She'd let loose and given him a real fight, and he left the mat with a black eye and a cracked collarbone.

Quartermain laughed, though the sound held no real amusement. "I'll pass. I still remember the last time well enough."

May zipped up her bag and turned to face him. "She deserves better."

Something flashed in his eyes, but he didn't respond as May walked past him and left the room.

* * *

Skye concentrated on deep breathing as she walked towards the showers. She knew she had to stop reacting to Quartermain, but it was getting more and more difficult. Ever since the night he'd come to her apartment, she felt an anger bordering on rage every time she saw him. While she had never been an advocate for physical violence – only one of the reasons she was hesitant about being a field agent – she suspected hitting Quartermain would be satisfying on a very basic, primal level.

She was passing one of the smaller training rooms when she saw Grant sparring with Natasha. She paused to watch them. They were perfectly matched; each move was executed with flawless technique, and neither of them really had the upper hand for more than a moment.

Suddenly, Grant rushed Natasha. For a second it looked like the move would be successful, but then Natasha fell backwards and used Grant's momentum to send him flying over her head. Grant rolled quickly to avoid her countermove.

"Damn – I thought I had you for a minute," Grant said with a grin as he got up.

"That was a fucking rookie move and you know it," Natasha said, laughing. She made a beckoning motion with her hand and then they were at it again.

Skye couldn't help smiling at how much fun they were having. But her stomach sank a little as she continued watching them, and her smile faded. Natasha was Grant's equal in a way that Skye didn't feel she could compete with. She even had the perfect code name – the Black Widow, beautiful and deadly to her enemies.

Grant had also been spending more time with Ali recently. Skye knew that specialists were the lone wolves of SHIELD, preferring to spend most of their time alone or with each other. She couldn't think of even one who had a balanced family life. She knew May had been married at one point, but it had fallen apart long ago. The same was true of Bobbi.

It was even a joke among trainees and field agents. If you wanted to be terminally single then you became a specialist. Skye could remember a time when she'd been amused by that, but she no longer found it funny when it might be the obstacle that prevented her from being with Grant.

And if Grant didn't want to be completely alone, he was surrounded by strong women like Ali, Natasha, and Bobbi – perfect female specimens who could probably speak a hundred languages and knew a hundred ways to kill someone in five seconds or less. Bobbi even had a doctorate in biology, proving she was as smart as she was beautiful, and Natasha held the record for the highest marks in espionage.

As for Ali, it was clear that she and Grant shared a romantic history. What was less clear was whether or not they had rekindled that flame. Skye hadn't even told Grant about breaking things off with Patrick. Jemma and Fitz knew, as did Coulson, and Skye knew that Natasha had guessed what was up that night at A.J.'s, though she'd never commented on it directly. She supposed Grant could have heard about it but if he knew, he wasn't saying anything.

Skye started to move away from the doorway but a wave from Grant stopped her. She should have known he saw her since he noticed everything.

Grabbing a towel and a bottle of water, he joined her. "How was training with May? I looked in on my way to meet Natasha, and it looks like you're picking it up pretty fast."

"May said the same thing," she replied, smiling at Natasha when she walked over.

"Are you still thinking about training for field status?" Natasha asked her.

Skye shrugged. "I guess. I don't know." She tilted her head towards the showers. "I should go get cleaned up."

She walked out only to be followed by Grant.

Touching her elbow, he asked, "What's wrong? You don't seem like yourself."

Skye swallowed hard, fighting the urge to spill everything as she met his concerned gaze. "I've just got a lot on my mind, I guess. It's no big deal."

His dark eyes searched her face for a moment. "I'm about to hit the showers too. Why don't we go get coffee? It's still early."

They hadn't done that in almost two weeks, and Skye had missed it. "Yeah, okay."

After her shower, she met Grant outside the training area and they walked down the path that led away from the Triskelion. They took the train down one stop and got off near the park. It was a downtown area full of trendy restaurants and coffee shops, and Skye breathed deeply as the scents of coffee and baked goods drifted out of the buildings they passed.

Her favorite café was a small espresso bar called Filter that served locally roasted coffee and had a nice selection of tea and pastries. The exposed brick interior gave off a cozy ambiance popular among both students and area professionals and usually ensured a wait time even on weekday mornings. Today was no different, and Skye scanned the crowded room looking for an empty table as she and Grant entered.

Spotting one, she left Grant to place their order and crossed the room to the table. She pulled out a chair and sat, unwinding her scarf and removing her jacket. She watched Grant in the line, his tall frame easy to pick out of the crowd. He was wearing his usual black suit, and it amused her that anyone looking at him would probably think he was a lawyer or businessman. That he could blend so well into his environment made him good at his job.

"Skye?"

Startled, she turned to see one of her twin cousins standing behind her. Based on the hairstyle, she guessed. "Henna?"

"Yeah." Henna gestured to one of the empty chairs. "Do you mind if I sit for a minute?"

Skye shook her head, and Henna pulled out the chair opposite Skye and sat down. They were both quiet for a minute.

"I saw you come in with your boyfriend," Henna finally said. "I don't want to intrude, but I wanted to at least say hello."

"Oh," Skye bit her lip, reaching up to twist a lock of her hair nervously. "Grant's a friend and a co-worker, but it's not like that."

Henna's brows rose in surprise. "Sorry, I just assumed." She nodded to a nearby table where two women and a man were studying. "I'm here with some of the people from my study group. We usually meet in the evenings, but a few of us grab coffee together a couple of mornings every week."

Skye nodded. "I started training about a month ago. I start at six, so I sometimes come down here for coffee before work."

"Mom said you're a computer analyst. Are you thinking about doing field work?"

"Maybe," she replied. "I've been in the field once before and it didn't go as planned. If I want to keep my options open, I thought I should put in the work."

"Uncle Clay used to joke that if a mission isn't going sideways, you must be doing it wrong," Henna said with a smile. "The nature of the business I guess."

Skye tried not to tense up at the mention of Quartermain, but she could tell by the way Henna's smile faded that she was unsuccessful.

"Sorry," Henna said quietly. "I guess this is really weird – for me yes, but more so for you."

"Your mother gave me your number. I just haven't had a lot of free time lately," Skye explained. "Maybe we could have coffee one day, or lunch or something."

Henna's expression brightened. "I'd love that. And Mom will be back in a few days. She was delayed because she was helping the Austin P.D. wrap up a cyber case."

"I know," Skye told her. "We've texted a few times since she left." It seemed that Alanna was being careful not to push too hard, but she also wasn't backing away from forging a relationship with her newly-discovered niece. As much as Skye was trying to maintain her pragmatic view of things, she felt the little well of hope grow each time she and Alanna spoke.

"Thanksgiving is coming up," Henna said. "She said she invited you to spend the holiday with us."

Skye nodded, her eyes shifting to Grant as he approached the table. "I'm thinking about it."

Henna looked up at Grant as he set a tray of coffee and breakfast pastry on the table. "Hi."

Grant nodded at her as he sat in the chair beside Skye. "Henna, right?"

Henna looked surprised. "You're good. Most people get me and Jenny confused until they've been around us a few times." One of the women at the other table called out to her and she stood up. "I should get back to my study group, but I really hope we can meet again soon, Skye. And I hope you decide to spend Thanksgiving with us."

"I'll call you," Skye promised, smiling as Henna left to rejoin her group.

* * *

Grant watched Skye carefully as they ate. She still seemed off, and it bothered him. He knew the situation with Quartermain was difficult, and he hadn't been surprised by how awkward things were between Skye and Henna when he arrived at the table. Despite the understandable tension, Henna was attempting to overcome it and Skye appeared to be trying to meet her halfway.

Skye hadn't mentioned being in contact with her aunt, nor had she mentioned being invited for Thanksgiving. He supposed he could add those things to the long list of items Skye hadn't mentioned recently, like her breakup with Patrick.

He'd suspected that was what happened the night he saw them at A.J.'s since the tension between them had been palpable even from across the room. He'd considered checking on her after Patrick left, but Natasha beat him to it. Considering that he'd been trying to distance himself emotionally, he figured it was for the best.

And Skye was distancing herself as well. He used to be able to tell what she was thinking, but lately she was much less open. It was clear that she had a lot on her mind, and she seemed reticent to share her thoughts.

"They invited you for Thanksgiving?" he asked.

Skye sipped her coffee. "Alanna rented a house here in the city for the holidays, and she's invited me to spend some time with them there."

Grant was glad that Skye's aunt was attempting to get to know her. "How do you feel about that?"

"I don't know. Weird, I guess," she admitted. "I don't know if I can stomach a holiday dinner with daddy dearest, to be honest. But I don't want to kick him out of his own family for the holidays, so I'm not sure what I'm going to do."

"They're your family too, Skye," he pointed out.

"Yeah, but I feel like a gatecrasher – like some wrecking ball hitting the Quartermain family. Henna and Alanna are trying to bridge the gap, but I don't think Jenny is interested in seeing me. When Alanna gave me a list of numbers for her and Henna, Jenny's was glaringly absent."

"There could be a number of reasons for that," he pointed out reasonably. "My take on the twins is that Jenny falls back and lets Henna take the lead. Maybe she's unsure and doesn't want to seem like she's taking sides against her uncle – they seem like a close-knit family."

"You only met them once. How can you know that?" she asked, forking up a bite of her pastry.

"You'd be surprised by what you can learn in one meeting, even a brief one." Grant was confident that he'd pegged the twins correctly. "Trust me – Henna's the more outgoing of the two. That may be all it is, and I wouldn't be surprised if Jenny tagged along if you meet Henna later."

Skye shrugged. "Maybe."

"Is something else bothering you?" he asked her. Her issues with Quartermain were part of it, especially since he'd noticed Quartermain hanging around more, but he knew that wasn't the only thing worrying her.

Her gaze slid away from his and she played with the sleeve on her coffee cup. "No."

Grant was tempted to reach across the table, take her hand, and call her out on that obvious lie. Maybe it was her breakup with Patrick or her worries about the Obelisk still plaguing her, but he could see that she didn't want to talk about it. He decided to drop it for the moment.

"Hand has requested my presence at in conference room B at eleven," Skye said, pushing her plate away and wiping her fingers on a napkin. "Do you have any idea what that's about?"

Grant nodded. "It's probably about your clearance level. I think they've made a decision."

"And?" she prompted, dropping the napkin and leaning forward.

He smiled at her excitement. "I think you can expect at least a level 4, but Coulson and I both recommended level 5. Hill usually makes the final decision. She likes you and she's impressed by the work you've been doing on flash missions. I know she interviewed some of the other specialists about that field mission you were part of – your ability to work cooperatively in the field and follow orders is important because the higher your clearance level, the more likely it is that field missions will come up."

"Okay, but I don't know anyone who's ever been bumped up more than two levels," she commented. "It took Greg five years to reach level 5, and that's after going to the academy. I haven't even been with the agency for three years."

"No offense to Greg, but you're better than he is," Grant said. "You're fast and efficient. You don't waste anyone's time, and you don't get flustered when things go wrong. Clearance level aside, I'd rather work with you. I know Trip and Natasha agree with me because we've discussed your performance. That will count for a lot with Hill."

Skye's obvious pleasure in his praise said a lot about how seriously she took her job. She was inexperienced, but he knew they could do good work together.

"Thank you," she replied softly. "I will try really hard not to let you guys down."

They got a refill on their coffees and picked up an order for Coulson before heading back to the Triskelion. Skye rode the elevator up to Operations and they parted ways at Coulson's office.

Grant spent the morning following up on mission files. There were three situations he was monitoring, and as more intel came in, he would decide when the mission should move forward. At a quarter to eleven, he made his way to the conference room for the meeting.

Skye was already there and to Grant's surprise, so was Quartermain. The older man was sitting in a chair across the table from Skye, and she was playing with her tablet in an attempt to ignore him. The tense silence was thick enough to cut with a knife, and Skye looked relieved to see him.

Grant nodded at Quartermain as he took the chair beside Skye. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

She nodded, and he squeezed her shoulder in a reassuring manner. A few minutes later Natasha came in, followed by Trip and Coulson. Hand and Hill were the last to join them.

As Grant suspected, they'd included Skye in the meeting because Hill had settled upon a level 5 clearance, which made Skye eligible for missions that Hand had previously vetoed.

Skye maintained her professional demeanor, but he could see how excited she was to be the first analyst to receive a three level bump. It said a lot about the agency's confidence in her abilities, and he was proud of her.

Grant reported on the status of the three flash missions he was monitoring, and Natasha contributed some intel she had received from a source. Skye took diligent notes and was tasked with research on Ramon Castillo, the South American drug lord whose lab Grant had raided a couple of weeks earlier.

He wasn't surprised to find that Greg had come up with nothing on Castillo's connections, which was the reason they were now giving the assignment over to Skye. When the meeting concluded, Skye followed him to his office.

"Congratulations," he told her, smiling when she pumped her fist as soon as the door was closed.

"And it comes with a raise," she said, grinning as she sat down in one of the chairs opposite his desk. "This city isn't cheap, you know. I can only afford the place I'm in because SHIELD owns that brownstone and A.C. pulled some strings after I came to work here."

"You deserve it," he told her, "but we do need to discuss potential field missions. Coulson and I talked about it and we both think it's best to limit field work as much as possible for the moment."

"Oh." Her excitement dimmed a little.

"Skye, we just want to make sure you're safe. Right now, if you do go in the field, I plan to be with you," he said. "And May said she'd talk to you about certain field readiness goals. I know you haven't decided if you want to be a field agent, and if you don't? That's fine, too. I just don't want you dropped into the middle of situations where you could get hurt."

She sighed. "Okay, I get it. I just wasn't expecting the mother hen treatment from you since A.C. has that covered most of the time."

His lips twitched and he tried not to smile as he sat in the chair beside her. "Call it whatever you want but I'm the one who brought you into flash missions and suggested a higher clearance level, so I'm going to do what I feel is necessary to mitigate the risk. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Skye reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "You can be incredibly sweet sometimes. People keep saying you're one of the scariest agents in Operations, but personally? I don't see it."

Because she brought out a side of him he'd buried so long ago that he'd all but forgotten it. Whether Skye realized it or not, she held a great deal of power over him, and he was still struggling with where to draw the lines with her. He'd tried to back off, to disconnect emotionally, but he'd been unable to let her walk away that morning when it was clear she was upset.

He could draw all the lines he wanted and try to maintain an emotional distance, but he was beginning to suspect it was a futile exercise. He was still tempted to drop everything the moment he thought she needed him, and though it would be smarter not to be in the field with her, he wasn't ready to entrust her safety to someone else. Other agents were certainly capable of protecting her in the field – Trip or Natasha, to name two. He just didn't trust them to protect her the same way that he would.

* * *

It was half past seven and Skye was the only analyst remaining in her section. She'd been working hard to clear her current projects in preparation for the missions she'd now be working with Grant and his team. Greg had already dropped off a folder on Ramon Castillo with a grudging offer of congratulations on her new security level.

She was having dinner that night with May and Coulson to celebrate. Since they'd set it up the day before, she knew Coulson must have already known she'd been approved. She was pulling on her coat when Quartermain walked around the corner.

Skye slowly pulled her hair out of the back of her jacket and finished buttoning it without saying anything.

"Congratulations," he told her.

"Thanks," she replied shortly. Spotting the hard drive he was holding, she asked, "The Castillo case?"

He nodded and passed it over to her. "Two other analysts have tried getting in but they're having trouble unlocking all the files. Hand asked that you take a look at it."

Nodding, she opened the small safe beneath her desk and locked it inside. "I'll start first thing in the morning." She grabbed her scarf and bag, praying he would take the hint and leave.

He didn't.

"I'm meeting Henna and Jenny for dinner," he said. "Henna mentioned that she saw you earlier at the coffee shop. If you want to come with us…"

"I'm meeting May and Coulson," she interrupted him impatiently. She could feel that white hot anger rising up within her. Was he kidding her with this? Did he really expect her to just accept his dinner invitation, just like that, after he'd spent the last twenty-five years ignoring her existence?

Quartermain shrugged off her rejection. "I think you and Henna would probably get along well."

Skye clenched her fist around the strap of her bag and lost her battle to be civil. "Don't pretend you know me because you don't. You don't know _anything_ about me. That's the way you wanted it, right, Dad?"

She felt a surge of satisfaction when he flinched a little at her last sentence.

His expression yielded little as he said, "You shouldn't miss out on knowing Alanna, Henna and Jenny because of me."

Skye remained next to her desk as he walked away, and she realized moments later that she was shaking. She sat down in her chair and tried to get herself under control because she didn't want Coulson or May asking questions.

She was honestly beginning to wonder what Quartermain's damage was. He'd wanted nothing to do with her for the last five years and suddenly, he was popping up everywhere – in meetings, in the training area, and at briefings for flash missions which, according to Coulson, he'd never been interested in before. And as hard as she tried, she couldn't pretend to be unaffected by it.

 **A/N: I've been under the weather so I didn't give this part a final edit like I usually do. However, I promised someone I would post it this week, so here you are. Please let me know if you see anything that needs to be fixed (grammar, etc.)**

 **Up Next: Skye and Grant continue trying to find a balance in their relationship, and Skye digs into the Castillo case, with surprising results. Alanna returns to D.C. and Skye spends more time with her, Henna and Jenny leading up to a very awkward family Thanksgiving where the tension between Skye and Quartermain comes to a head. Skye, Jemma and Natasha have a girls night, and Skye seeks advice from May about how specialists balance their personal and professional lives.**


	2. Chapter 2

Skye tapped her fingers on her coffee cup as she waited for her aunt. She'd arrived an hour early at Filter in order to secure a good table that would allow for some privacy. Unfortunately that hour had allowed plenty of time for nerves to settle in as well.

Alanna had been back in D.C. for a week, though this was the first time they'd scheduled a time to meet. Skye had put her off at first because she was trying to make a decision about the family holiday she knew Alanna wanted her to participate in. Now that Thanksgiving was just over a week away, she felt more pressure to give Alanna an answer.

The door opened again, and Skye raised a hand when she saw Alanna look in her direction. The older woman smiled and crossed the room to meet her. Skye tried not to stiffen up when Alanna hugged her in greeting.

Alanna gave her one last squeeze before releasing her. "You're just going to have to get used to that, Skye. Henna and Jenny will both attest to the fact that regardless of environment, I'm a hugger."

Skye couldn't help laughing. "It's okay." She waved down the barista and they placed their orders.

Glancing at the empty cup the barista took away, Alanna asked, "How long have you been here?"

"About an hour," Skye told her. "I had a late night, and I'll probably have another one tonight, so I'm taking a long lunch. They don't need me back until four."

"I remember those days. I heard about your clearance bump – that's impressive, Skye. Congratulations."

Skye smiled at Alanna. "Thanks. It's a lot more work, but I finally feel like I can do something worthwhile to make a difference."

They continued to talk over coffee and sandwiches. Alanna told her about the case she'd been working on with the Austin P.D., showing her a newspaper clipping that covered the resulting bust. Child sex trafficking was much more of a problem in the U.S. than Skye had ever realized before talking to her aunt about it. It was something that Alanna was passionate about, and Skye learned that she had also addressed several state lawmakers and Congress about the issue.

"International airports are a big problem because they're meeting places – people coming into the country and picking up a girl or boy on their way out of the airport, if you can believe that. After the holidays I'm meeting with the FBI at their field office in Atlanta," Alanna told her. "But I can do most of the work from here, so I plan to stay in D.C. for a while."

"They're lucky to have you," Skye said. "I've been developing programs that make the dark net searchable. I'll put out a few hooks and see if anything comes back that might help you. I tip off the local authorities any time I come across something that falls outside SHIELD's parameters."

"SHIELD's focus is narrow," Alanna agreed. "I don't mean to downplay their role because I know it's important, but it is one of the reasons I left."

"I never saw myself with some big agency. And definitely not SHIELD – I was very anti-big brother when Coulson caught me poking around in their servers."

Alanna insisted on getting the check when they were finished. Since Skye still had an hour, they walked and window shopped. Christmas decorations were already up in most of the stores they passed, and Skye paused to look at a tree displayed in the window of an antiques shop.

"That's really pretty," Alanna commented. "Do you usually put up a tree?"

"I do now that I have a place to put it," Skye said. "I had a table tree when I lived in the dorm. My apartment is small – tiny, really – but I can squeeze a tree into the corner as long as it's the runt of the lot. They put up a tree at the orphanage but Christmas was kind of depressing back then. Now I can make my own traditions."

"Have you given any more thought to Thanksgiving?" Alanna asked. "I'm not trying to rush you, but I would love to have you with us. This weekend I'm decorating the house and I was hoping you'd stop by."

Skye knew she'd put off the decision long enough. "Look, I'm not gonna lie – part of me wants to come and part of me wants to stay as far away from Quartermain as possible. Just being in the same room with him is enough to push my buttons lately. I'd hate to ruin the holiday for everyone."

"Clay told me that he invited you to dinner and you shut him down, which is understandable," Alanna said carefully. "I'm afraid Henna has been pushing him to reach out to you."

"So it wasn't even his idea. Good to know." Skye twisted the handle of her bag and kept her eyes firmly on the tree in the window. She was surprised by how much that hurt. At least she had an answer about his sudden change of heart.

"Skye, he wants to connect with you more than he'll admit to himself or anyone else. If he didn't then no amount of encouragement from Henna would change that."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because he's my brother," she replied simply. "He's good at hiding, but he can't hide that well from me. I think he resigned himself to losing a place in your life in order to keep you safe. Now? Everything has changed. If this was a mission, he'd adjust and keep going. Instead he's being forced to stop and see the flesh and blood daughter he gave up. He won't talk about it, but I think he's feeling defensive about his past decisions. He's questioning everything and for a man like Clay, that's hard."

"Yeah, well, growing up in an orphanage was hard too," Skye said, her tone sharper than she intended. There was more that she could say, but she swallowed down the angry words. Alanna wasn't to blame for Quartermain's decisions.

"I know it must have been," Alanna replied. She reached out and took Skye's hand, squeezing it gently. "If Clay had told me about you, I feel like we could have come up with an alternative. I could have developed a relationship with you during my volunteer work there, and after a few years, I could have adopted you. At least then you would have been with family."

Skye shook her head. "It's a nice fairy tale, but I'd rather know the truth – about my mother, about her people. About where I come from."

"I know there's more to your story, Skye. But you do have us now. You're a Quartermain. Don't deny that part of yourself because you're angry with Clay."

Keeping her eyes on the tree was difficult because her vision was blurring, and she blinked back the tears. "I'll come." She wasn't sure how she was going to get through it without throwing the china at Quartermain, but she didn't want to deny herself a chance to know the other members of her family. "And I'll come this weekend too – to help decorate." When she glanced over at her aunt, she was beaming.

"Good," Alanna told her. "I have something I want to give you." She reached into her bag and pulled out a small envelope which she handed over to Skye.

She took it curiously. Inside were five photographs and she froze, shocked when she saw who was in them.

"I debated whether or not I should give these to you after I found them," Alanna told her. "I mentioned before that I've done a lot of volunteer work with the church. I went looking for photos because I wondered if you were in any of them. I'd forgotten about this, actually. It was Clay's first holiday in Texas in nearly five years."

Skye's heart was pounding and her hands felt clammy as she stared at herself in the first photo. She was wearing a red dress with white tights and shiny black shoes, and her hair was starting to slip out of the braids the nuns preferred. She remembered the shoes, of all things – how shiny they were and how they tapped against the stone tiles in the old church.

She didn't remember sitting across from her father as he watched her color. He was smiling at her, completely unguarded for once.

"I was pregnant with the twins, so you must have been five, almost six," Alanna continued. "Clay helped me deliver some toys for Christmas, and then he disappeared. I was surprised to find him sitting in the rec room with the kids."

Skye's fingers trembled as she looked at the other photos – in one, Clay was handing out crayons to her and the other kids. In the third, it looked like she was telling him a story about her picture, and he was giving her his full attention.

She slid them back into the envelope without looking at the last two. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"I don't know," Alanna replied softly. "I'm not trying to make things more difficult for you. I just felt like you should see them."

"I have to go," Skye said abruptly. She shoved the envelope into her bag.

"Skye…"

"I'll call you about this weekend," she interrupted. "I just… I don't want to talk about this."

To her credit, Alanna backed off immediately. "No, I understand. I didn't mean to upset you, honey."

"It's fine," Skye told her. She tried to shake it off and smile, but it was a strained effort.

"I also wanted to tell you that you're more than welcome to invite friends to come for Thanksgiving dinner. I have plenty of room at the table, and I thought you'd feel more comfortable that way."

"I usually spend Thanksgiving with AC and my friends, Fitz and Jemma. Sometimes May joins us."

"And the young man you were with at the park?" Alanna asked curiously.

"Grant. We work together and we're friends. I don't know how he'd feel about Thanksgiving, though." She couldn't deny that the idea of having him there for moral support appealed to her.

They said goodbye and Skye walked slowly back to the train station. She could invite Coulson and May, and since she'd finally told Fitz and Jemma the whole story, she could invite them, too. The problem was that she could practically feel the awkward tension already since May hated Quartermain, and Fitz and Jemma were still very indignant on her behalf. Despite his personal feelings about Quartermain, Coulson would probably maintain a friendly front. Since Alanna, her husband and the twins would be there, she hoped the others would do the same if she asked them to come. She didn't want to sabotage a family dinner her aunt was working hard to plan.

She wasn't sure about inviting Grant. Now that she was certain of her feelings, their every interaction seemed wired, fraught with awareness and tension and the words she was careful not to even hint at. Still, she knew that having him there would go a long way towards helping her control her anxiety.

Back at the office, Skye threw herself into her work and tried to forget the envelope in her bag. She went to a briefing with Grant and his team, and she delivered her plans to hack the security system for a job that night. Skye knew she had to be on point and focused, and she pushed aside everything else for the next few hours.

She and Grant worked from his office since it wasn't necessary for her to be on site. The mission went smoothly, and when the team returned, they debriefed before calling it a night.

Skye smiled in acknowledgement as Trip patted her shoulder. "Good work, rookie."

When the specialists adopted that nickname for her, she was offended until Grant explained it was a sign that they had accepted her as part of the team. The other cyber security experts were known by last names only, and after that she noticed that while the specialists like Trip, Ali, Natasha and Ricky were professional, a certain distance was maintained with others like Greg. She'd gotten through their reserve, had gained their acceptance, and she imagined it was a little like being drafted by the best team in the league.

She was thankful that Quartermain wasn't part of this mission. It hadn't escaped her attention that he often bowed out when she was running ops with Grant from his office and popped back up only when there was a possibility she'd be sent into the field. Coulson's words came back to her – that Quartermain had only begun involving himself in flash missions when she started working on them.

The envelope was practically burning a hole through her bag as she sat with the team at McGillevrey's. Skye tried to hide her distraction, but she could tell by the way Grant was looking at her that she wasn't successful. She sipped her beer and half listened to the guys talking football, only looking up when Natasha said her name. "Sorry, what?"

"I said I owe you a drink," Natasha said, raising a brow at her. "How about Thanksgiving weekend – does Saturday night work for you? I hear most people need a stiff drink after spending a weekend with extended family."

Skye and Jemma had talked about going to dinner or a movie that weekend because they hadn't had a girls' night out in a while, either. "Do you mind if I invite Jemma? You met her at Black Cat that night."

"I remember," Natasha said. "Why not? It'll be a real ladies' night."

"You sure you know what you're getting yourself into?" Ricky joked.

Skye smiled. "I can handle myself, thanks."

Ali declined Natasha's invitation to join them, claiming prior plans. Skye wondered if those plans included Grant. Fifteen minutes later she decided to head out since she was still trying to keep her morning appointments with May even when she had late nights. She could always crash on the sofa in Jemma's lab for a few hours at lunch time.

"Good job tonight Skye," Ricky said when she stood up. "Glad to have you on our team."

"Thanks." She pulled on her coat and hat, unsurprised when Grant stood up to walk her out. But she'd timed her exit carefully to coincide with the bus, and it was coming down the street when they reached the small shelter at the bus stop.

"Skye, is something wrong?" Grant asked.

"I just have a lot on my mind," she answered. "I promise I won't let it interfere with the missions though."

His brows drew together. "I'm not concerned about the missions. I'm concerned about you. You met Alanna for lunch today, right? Did something happen?"

She should have realized he'd immediately connect those dots. "I'm helping her decorate the house for the holidays this weekend, and I agreed to have Thanksgiving dinner with them."

"That's not all of it."

Skye glanced at the bus pulling up. She could ditch the bus and ask him for a ride home. She could invite him in and she could show him the pictures. She could tell him about Quartermain's awkward dinner invitation and ask him for his insight into what could possibly be going on inside her father's head. Then she could ask him to come with her on Thanksgiving weekend.

Except once she started opening up to him, she was afraid it would all come spilling out – her feelings, hopes and fears, and how much she didn't want to say goodbye at the end of the night anymore. She didn't need the SHIELD handbook to know that would likely be a mistake since they were working closely together on high level missions now. She just didn't know how to keep this all separate anymore, and she suspected that Grant still wanted things to be simple between them.

Turning back to him, she smiled. "It's fine. I just have a lot to think about. I'll see you tomorrow."

He didn't stop her when she walked away. She looked out the window when she settled into her seat and watched him grow smaller until he was swallowed up by the darkness.

Skye kept busy in her apartment, washing the dishes from the day before and folding the load of laundry that had been piled on her sofa for the last few days. Then she changed the sheets on her bed and took a shower, dressed in her warmest pajamas, and slid under her covers.

Five minutes later she was up again, digging through her bag until she found the envelope. She took a deep breath and then pulled out the photos. She looked at the first three again, noting every detail of Quartermain's expression and posture. He seemed relaxed and he was smiling, but she also thought he looked a little sad. Sad and something else – some other emotion she couldn't quite put her finger on.

She bit her lip and looked at the last two photos. In the first it looked like she was giving him the picture she'd drawn as he was helping to pass out gifts. She sat cross legged on the floor next to him, a box in her lap as she handed him the paper she'd colored. In the last one, she was hugging a plush, chocolate brown bear close to her chest and beaming with pleasure.

Skye remembered that bear. It had been her prized possession, and she'd slept with it for years. She recalled what one of the nuns told her about the gift. She'd said Skye asked for it for months after seeing a girl at the park playing with one just like it. But it was a limited edition stuffed toy, and they weren't being sold anymore. She was surprised when Skye got the exact one she asked for when gifts were donated that year and often reminded Skye to take good care of it.

She stood up and walked to her bedroom, opening the small chest at the foot of her bed. Mr. Kutterman was nestled among her extra blankets and a few other keepsakes, and she picked him up before closing the chest.

It was an odd choice of name for a stuffed bear, especially considering her age when she'd named him. She could never recall why she'd settled on that name, but now she thought she knew. It sounded a lot like Quartermain.

Had he known she wanted that bear? It was hard to believe it was a coincidence since the bears weren't available to buy that Christmas. The only way he could have known about it was if he was in regular contact with Father Thomas.

She sat down on her bed and stared at Mr. Kutterman. He was a little worn and frayed, and he'd been mended in more than a few spots over the years, but he was still in good condition. She traced his eyes and nose and felt tears slipping down her cheeks. For the first time in almost ten years, she curled up with her bear and pulled the covers over both of them.

* * *

The rest of the week passed in a blur of training and mission planning. Skye felt subdued, and she dreaded seeing Quartermain again. She was still angry but it was tempered by confusion and hurt. She considered canceling on her aunt – only the knowledge of how disappointed Alanna would be stopped her.

Adding to her overall distraction was the stress of working closely with Grant. They spent hours in his office sharing takeout and troubleshooting issues that came up while working out the kinks on new missions that were cropping up on a near daily basis.

It was Friday night and Skye pinched the bridge of her nose as she squinted at her computer screen. She'd been running code for five hours straight; her shoulders were tense, aggravating the migraine she could feel coming on.

"Are you okay?" Grant asked.

She rolled her neck from side to side. "I'm fine, just tired."

Grant stood up and walked around his desk to stand behind her. Her fingers stilled on the keyboard when his hands landed on her shoulders, thumbs digging into her sore muscles. She bit back a moan of pleasure when he began massaging the back of her neck.

"You've been at this for hours," he said quietly. "Just relax for a minute."

The steady pressure was easing the pain in her neck and shoulders. She should tell him to stop. It just felt too good, and she craved his touch in a way she never had with anyone else. Skye knew they were fast reaching a point where she would have to talk to him about her feelings or find a way to get over them. To quote one of her foster brothers, it was time to fish or cut bait.

There were potential issues, of course. Grant had been assigned to the Triskelion for nearly six months straight, and she was afraid he'd be tapped for long term missions after the holidays. If he did return her feelings, something she wasn't even sure of, she had no idea how they'd balance a relationship against his undercover operations. Some assignments were relatively short and some were longer, but the specialists were on constant rotation when they weren't assigned to Washington.

"Better?" he asked.

His fingers slid up into her hair and massaged her scalp, and she was going to fall asleep if he kept it up.

"Yeah." She pulled away reluctantly. "I just need about half an hour and I'll be done."

* * *

Grant looked over at Skye, who had nodded off in the passenger seat when he insisted on driving her home. He wasn't comfortable with her taking the bus or a taxi that late when she was clearly exhausted. Despite the late nights, he knew she was continuing her training with May, and she'd been more tired than usual lately.

When they arrived at her brownstone, Skye handed him her keys and yawned as she followed him into the building. Grant completed a quick walk through before joining her back in the living room. He smiled when he saw her curled into the corner of the sofa.

"Hey, Skye? You should go to bed."

"I know," she replied, sighing with the effort of standing again. She walked into her bedroom and when he heard nothing else, he followed to see her lying on her side on top of the comforter, her arms wrapped around a stuffed brown bear.

She'd removed her shoes in the living room so rather than wake her, he covered her with two blankets he found in the chest at the end of her bed and turned off the light. Then he went into the kitchen and opened the drawer where he knew she kept her spare keys, and his attention was caught by the photos tossed on top of them.

He was surprised to see a much younger Quartermain, and the little girl he was looking at was clearly Skye. She hadn't mentioned seeing Quartermain lately, so he thought she probably got them from her aunt, which explained her distraction over the past week. He shouldn't be looking at them. If Skye wanted him to know about this, she'd tell him. But she was bottling up her feelings lately, and it bothered him a lot more than he wanted to admit.

He looked through the photos carefully, pausing when he recognized the bear he'd seen her holding. He knew she was meeting her aunt and cousins tomorrow, and even if she didn't see her father then, there would be no avoiding him next weekend.

Skye had asked him to come to her aunt's house for Thanksgiving dinner. Coulson, May, Fitz and Jemma had also been invited. He hadn't been stateside for the holidays in years, and this year he had planned to have dinner with the other specialists, minus Trip who was visiting his family that weekend. He'd put off giving her an answer by saying he was waiting for mission status updates. The reality was that he was still looking for ways to compartmentalize his feelings, and he doubted spending a major holiday with her would be conducive to that exercise.

After seeing the photos, Grant knew he was going to say yes. Hell, he probably would have said yes anyway, but he couldn't turn his back on her when she needed his support. Closing the drawer, he looked in on her one last time to find her snoring softly. He smiled and left her apartment, locking the door carefully behind him.

* * *

Skye woke on Thanksgiving morning feeling cautiously optimistic. She'd be helping Alanna and the twins with dinner, and Coulson, Fitz, Jemma and Grant were all scheduled to arrive around five o'clock. May had declined the invitation because she'd decided to visit her parents over the long weekend. Skye thought it was also because she didn't want her antipathy towards Quartermain to make Alanna and her family uncomfortable.

After spending the previous weekend decorating the large townhouse with her aunt and cousins, Skye had felt better about the idea of a family holiday dinner. By unspoken agreement they all stuck to light topics, and no one brought up Quartermain. Henna was as friendly as ever, making her feel welcome. Jenny was more reserved, an aspect of her personality that Grant had correctly guessed, but she warmed up to Skye over the course of the day. When their discussion turned to computers, they'd abandoned decorating the tree in favor of hacking demonstrations on Skye's modified tablet, much to Alanna's amusement.

She'd even agreed to stay with them the night before. Her guest room was nicer than any hotel she'd ever stayed in. She sat back against the pillows and stretched before getting out of bed and heading into the attached guest bath for a long shower, a luxury she didn't often have since the water heater at her apartment wasn't the greatest.

Alanna had assured her that dinner would be informal, so Skye had chosen skinny jeans, knee high black boots, and a form-fitting, deep emerald sweater to wear that evening. For now she dressed in jeans and a blue hoodie since she planned to spend the day in the kitchen.

It was still early when she went downstairs and headed into the large, open kitchen in search of the coffee she could smell brewing. She stopped short when she saw Quartermain seated at the island.

Skye bit her lip nervously. It was the first time she'd seen him in a couple of weeks. He had an apartment on the other side of town, and she knew that was where he was staying while he was in Washington. She'd been expecting to see him later, and she'd told herself she was ready for that meeting. Finding him there so early was unexpected, but she could do this.

"Hi."

He looked surprised. "Hi. There's coffee if you want it."

She nodded in acknowledgement and crossed to the cabinet that held the coffee cups. She could feel him watching her as she poured the coffee and added cream. No matter what, she was determined to have a good day, and she knew that would start with finding some kind of middle ground with her father.

Squaring her shoulders, she turned back to him. "You're here early."

"I picked up a few things Alanna forgot at the store," he explained, gesturing to the two bags on the island. "She likes to start cooking early."

"It's cold today." Wow – she lasted ten seconds before resorting to the weather. It wasn't exactly scintillating conversation, but it was clear they were both walking on eggshells around each other.

"It'll get colder. I hope your brownstone has a good heating system."

"It's fine." She walked over to the bags on the island and poked through them. "Alanna seems serious about this whole Thanksgiving dinner thing. Henna said we'll be busy all day."

"She took the responsibility seriously after our parents died. I'm not much help so I just try to stay out of her way."

"She may regret asking for my help. I've been known to burn oatmeal."

He smiled at that but his response was cut off by Alanna, who was talking over her shoulder to her husband, David, as she walked into the kitchen. She stopped abruptly when she saw them, and Skye could tell she was tempted to back out and leave them alone again.

"Hey, sis." Clay stood up and gave her a one armed hug. "Your groceries are over there."

"Thanks," Alanna replied. With a final look in Skye's direction, she shooed the men out.

Skye started unpacking the bags, smiling at her aunt when she joined her at the island.

"Is everything okay?" Alanna asked her.

Skye knew she was referring to Quartermain. "Yeah." Oddly enough, she thought she really was okay. It was awkward, but she felt like she could get through the day without blowing up at her father. That was something she hadn't been sure she could manage a week ago.

The rest of the day passed in a flurry of activity. Skye followed directions, once again bonding with Jenny over a lack of culinary skill. She and her cousin washed and chopped vegetables, peeled potatoes, and performed other tasks as Alanna and Henna got the turkey in the oven and prepared the side dishes and desserts. David and Quartermain were watching football, though David poked his head into the kitchen a few times with offers to help, only to be shooed out again by her aunt.

Henna switched places with Skye when Alanna started on the pies.

"This is your great-grandmother's recipe," Alanna explained. "So in honor of your first Thanksgiving with us, I want you to make the apple pie."

"You want to be able to eat the pie, right?" Skye said skeptically.

Her protests went unheeded by her aunt, much to her cousins' amusement, and Skye found herself making pie dough, rolling it out and mixing the freshly chopped apples with spices according to her aunt's instructions.

When they pulled it out of the oven, Skye was amazed. "It actually looks like an apple pie." She hadn't gotten the lattice top exactly right, but it smelled good.

Alanna put her arm around Skye. "It looks perfect to me."

Skye went upstairs to clean up and change before dinner. When she came back down, Coulson, Grant, Jemma and Fitz were in the living room with Alanna, Jenny, Henna, David and Quartermain.

"What up, AC," Skye said, smiling at him. "I made a pie."

"Really?" Coulson said, raising a brow. "Is it edible?"

She laughed at his teasing and then smiled at Grant. "Hey."

"Hey." His brown eyes were warm as he smiled back at her.

Just having him there – having all of them there, really – helped her relax. She introduced Jemma and Fitz, and soon she and her cousins were carrying the platters of food to the formal dining room. The table was already set, and Skye was seated next to her aunt with Grant beside her and Coulson across from her. Jemma was next to Coulson, and then Quartermain, who was seated across from Fitz.

There was some awkwardness at the table. Jemma seemed unsure whether or not she should be talking to Quartermain, and Fitz stared at him unabashedly in that way he did when he was trying to figure something out. The tension was broken when the front of Fitz's sweater started moving.

Henna was seated next to Fitz and dropped her fork when she noticed. "What is that?"

"Sorry," Fitz said apologetically. "She sleeps a lot in the evening, and sometimes I forget she's in here."

"Oh, Fitz! I thought you said you were leaving her with your neighbor for the evening?" Jemma's tone of admonishment was tinged with equal parts exasperation. "You can't just bring animals into someone's home without asking!"

"No, it's fine," Alanna assured them, watching curiously as Fitz unbuttoned his cardigan to reveal Nakoma in her baby sling. "Oh, she's cute!"

Fitz smiled proudly. "Ward rescued her. Her name's Nakoma." He stroked her head for a moment until she closed her eyes again.

Grant frowned. "I didn't…"

Skye kicked him, cutting off whatever he was about to say. "No, you definitely rescued her. It would have been a hard knock life for little Nakoma without the great dark protector, right?"

"It's like Skye said. We have to take care of the world's orphans," Fitz told them. He buttoned his cardigan again, oblivious to the sudden silence in the wake of his words.

Skye tried to shrug it off, and she was grateful when Coulson spoke up.

"Well, I have to say this dinner is better than what Skye and I usually come up with. We have better luck with restaurants than we do in the kitchen."

"Since I had a few ramen Thanksgivings before we met, I was pretty easy to please anyway," Skye joked. "The dinners at St. Agnes weren't bad though. It's just different when it's a house and a family."

Jenny was staring at her. "You never had Thanksgiving in a house?"

"Jenny!" From Henna's expression, Skye guessed she would have been kicking her sister if her foot could have reached that far.

Skye knew things like this would come up sooner or later. "No, it's okay. There was a house once. The Brody family. I was nine, and I spent several months with them, including Thanksgiving and Christmas. I thought I would get to stay with them, but they took me back to St. Agnes in January. Apparently I wasn't a good fit." There was no rancor in her tone for once. It was a simple recitation of facts she'd long ago accepted.

She felt Grant's hand on her arm. "That was their loss."

Silence reigned at the table once again, so Skye changed the subject. "Who's ready to risk death by being the first taste tester of my very first pie?"

She stood up to get her pie. When she turned around, she was surprised to see Quartermain behind her. "It's just one pie. I don't really need help."

He shook his head. "It's not that. I wanted to tell you that it's not your fault the Brody family didn't keep you."

Skye frowned at him. "What?"

"You weren't available for adoption, Skye. Tim and Mary Brody asked about keeping you, but Father Thomas told them it wasn't possible."

Skye stared at him in disbelief. "Why?" Her hands were shaking, and she set the pie back on the island before she did something crazy like throw it at the man standing across from her.

"You were there for safekeeping. Adopting you out would have been too dangerous."

"So, what? You didn't want me and then you sabotaged any chance I had at being with a family?" That boiling white hot anger was back, bubbling through her veins. "Did you hate the idea of having a daughter that much?"

"Is that what you think? Do you have any idea how hard it was to get you out of your mother's village without anyone knowing? But I was damn well not going to leave you there to die like your mother, so I did what I thought was necessary. I know Alanna told you she was murdered and her killers were looking for you. Use your head, Skye."

"Maybe you did save my life by getting me out of China," Skye shot back. "But do you know what's worse than whatever worst case scenario you imagined? Spending twenty-five years thinking I was unlovable, that no one wanted me."

"Skye…"

She held up a hand. "No." She brushed past him, ignoring everyone at the table as she went into the living room and opened the French doors to the patio. It was cold, but she welcomed the chill against her burning cheeks.

She heard the doors open and turned to see Grant. "I guess you heard all of that."

"Everyone heard it."

When he opened his arms, she hugged him tightly and let the tears fall. "I'm sorry."

"You're the last person who should be sorry here." He cupped the back of her head and stroked her hair. "I know it doesn't seem like it now, but this is progress, Skye. The fact that he's even trying to explain says he cares about you. Everyone at that table cares about you."

She sniffed. "I ruined Thanksgiving."

"No, you didn't. I think it was overly optimistic to think this was going to be a sunny family reunion. They just want to know you're okay."

"I'm okay." She leaned back and took a deep breath as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "A little embarrassed, but okay."

"Hey, if you don't want to go back in there, say the word and we'll leave."

She shook her head. "No. I don't want to do that to Alanna."

"You're sure?" he asked quietly.

"I'm sure." She took his hand. "Thank you. For coming today, and for tolerating my mental health breakdowns."

His lips tilted up in amusement. "If that's the best you've got, I'll raise you a fortune teller I met in Seoul who threw herself into the street and stopped traffic every time she got upset. Her histrionics were legendary."

Skye laughed and let him lead her back into the house.

 **A/N: I promised this update this week. I didn't have time to edit as much as I wanted to, so let me know if you see anything I should fix. I ended up bumping drinks with Natasha and the conversation with May to the next chapter, which also includes the mission gone horribly wrong. It will also include some resolution to this awkward Thanksgiving dinner. I just realized I didn't finish answering comments from the last chapter. I'm sorry about that! I'll get back on that tomorrow. Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

Love is a fragile little flame Chapter 3

 **A/N: To be on the safe side, there's a mild violence warning that goes along with this chapter. I say mild because I tried to be descriptive without being too graphic, and I don't think it's near as bad as what's been on the show, but anyway, be aware. It's tagged as such on AO3 but FF doesn't allow tags, hence the note.**

Skye was relieved to find everyone was willing to ignore the scene between her and Quartermain after she and Grant returned to the table. Alanna and Henna had cleared away the main dishes and replaced them with the desserts, and Jenny and her dad brought in the coffee.

Skye's apple pie was the first to be served.

"This was grandmother Daisy's recipe," Alanna told Coulson as she passed him a plate. "Skye did a fabulous job with it."

"The crust is a little weird looking," Skye pointed out. Her lattice top had melded together to make an odd pattern in a few spots.

"It tastes good," Quartermain said. "Just how I remember."

It was the first time he'd spoken since their blowup in the kitchen. Skye could almost hear everyone holding their breath, but she was determined to show she could move past it if he could. "Thanks."

After dessert and coffee they had the official tree lighting, and Skye was dragged into several family photos. She was surprised to find herself regaining her original excitement over this first family holiday, and while she and Quartermain were careful to avoid each other, she still thought the evening was a success.

Skye had agreed to stay another night with Alanna since she'd promised to go shopping with them the following day, so at the end of the evening she walked her friends out.

"Thanks for coming you guys," Skye told them as she stood at the gate. "You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

"We were happy to be here," Jemma assured her, giving her a hug. "I'll see you on Saturday." At Fitz's questioning glance, she added, "We're having drinks with Natasha."

"Romanoff?" Fitz asked incredulously. "Can I come?"

"Sorry Fitz, it's ladies night only," Jemma told him.

"That seems very gender biased," Fitz complained.

Skye smiled as they continued to argue playfully on the way to the car.

"Have fun tomorrow," Coulson said. "And about Saturday, don't let Romanoff get you into too much trouble."

"Yes, Dad," she replied, grinning when he shook his head and followed Fitz and Jemma, which left her alone with Grant. She looked up at him and reached for his hand, linking their fingers together. "Thank you for coming. I know this kind of thing isn't really your deal."

"No," he agreed. "But I'm glad I came."

Skye hesitated, wondering if she was making a mistake. Screw it, she thought. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "See you on Monday?"

He reached out and pushed her hair back. "Yeah."

Skye stood and watched until the car pulled away. When she turned around, she was startled to see Quartermain standing on the path that led around to the back of the house.

"Sorry. I was just leaving but I didn't want to interrupt," he said. He shoved his hands in his pockets.

Skye recognized that he was uncomfortable. So was she. "It's fine." She headed for the front door but paused, hand on the doorknob, when he spoke.

"I know that you hate me. I guess I don't blame you. I can't go back and undo the past and even if I could, I can't tell you that I would do things any differently. I had one objective back then, and it was keeping you alive. That's it. I still think I made the best call."

Skye braced herself before turning around slowly to face him. "You came to the orphanage for Christmas when I was five. I don't remember you, but Alanna showed me some photos she found. I remember the bear. Did you get him for me?"

Quartermain nodded. "Father Thomas said it was the only thing you'd been asking for, for months. I was glad I was able to find it because it made you really happy."

Skye could feel the tears threatening again, and she took a shaky breath. "But you still left me there that day. Again." She'd been too young at the time to really understand abandonment, but it was a hard lesson she'd repeatedly learned in the years to come.

Quartermain looked like he was struggling. Finally, he said, "Leaving you there – the first time, and that day – they were two of the worst days of my life, but I accepted it. It doesn't mean that I'm not sorry."

"Did you love her? My mother, I mean." Skye wrapped her arms around herself.

"Yes." Quartermain ended the conversation by turning and walking away.

Skye wiped her hands across her cheeks before going back inside to find Alanna waiting for her in the entry way.

"I was coming to look for you but I saw you and Clay talking," Alanna said hesitantly. "Are you okay?"

Skye nodded. "He thinks I hate him but I don't. It would be easier if I did."

"Oh, honey." Alanna hugged her close for a minute. "It will get better. I promise."

* * *

Jemma was practically bouncing with excitement as she and Skye got ready to meet Natasha. "What do you think we should talk about? What exactly _does_ one talk about with a deadly assassin?"

"Former," Skye pointed out. "Or, mostly former, I guess."

She wasn't naïve. She knew from her work with the Rising Tide that SHIELD had some shady skeletons hidden in its closets. She thought she understood a little more about the greater good argument, especially since the Battle of New York, and she didn't think that agents went around killing people indiscriminately. But facts were facts, and she knew some high level targets had been taken out in the past when they were deemed a serious threat to the general public, either stateside or abroad. Unlike the CIA, SHIELD didn't recognize borders and she knew very few people in the U.S. government were even privy to the details of their operations.

It was hard to imagine that side of the people she'd met. Grant, for example, was one of the best snipers in SHIELD. He must have used those skills on missions before. But other than the mission at SynesTek, she'd never seen him engage in combat. The same was true of Trip, and now Natasha. Even Ricky seemed far too good natured to be the cold blooded agent he had to be in the field.

She wondered now if that was the real reason they all remained single. They saw the world through mission-tinted glasses and probably assessed threats everywhere they went. Everyone they met had to be regarded with suspicion because that's how the world of espionage worked. They had each other, but that presented issues since they had learned to expect long term isolation when they went deep cover. They could work as a team, but their very nature and the training they'd had meant they often worked best alone.

Skye was still thinking about this when they met Natasha at the first bar, an upscale martini lounge in the heart of the city. Natasha had already claimed a table, and she stood up to greet them when they joined her.

Jemma was subdued in the beginning, much to Skye's amusement, and she sat tongue tied as Skye and Natasha chatted about the weekend.

"Trip wasn't with us this weekend, but Mathis is pretty good in the kitchen," Natasha said. "It was fun. Trip mentioned before that you usually do Thanksgiving with Coulson and May."

"Yeah," Skye answered, sipping her drink. "I'm an orphan, so…"

"You never found your birth family?" she asked.

Skye turned her glass around, watching the lights play against the glass. "I did. It's complicated. What about you? No family?"

"No. SHIELD is the family I never had. Trip still sees his family on a regular basis. The rest of us tend to gravitate towards one another when we have down time."

It was something Skye had definitely noticed, and she wondered if any of them had been involved before, besides Grant and Ali.

Jemma had obviously been wondering the same thing because at the second bar, and with a few drinks in her, she was brave enough to venture into the conversation. "You know, at the academy they talked about specialists and their relationships. I always wondered how that worked – balancing undercover work with real life."

Natasha looked amused. "You mean that crack about if you want to be single, become a specialist?" She laughed. "They're not wrong."

"But don't you get lonely?" Jemma asked. "I do. I work so much that I'd probably have to date Fitz in order to make a go of it."

"You can't miss what you've never had," Natasha pointed out. "I had a unique upbringing – no positive role models to speak of, so it's never something I thought much about."

Skye was hung up on Jemma's mention of Fitz. "Wait, are you saying you've thought about dating Fitz?"

Jemma blushed. "Perhaps a few times. I worry it could be a disaster – imagine seeing your ex-boyfriend in the office every day. We can't all be as adult as you and Patrick."

"Because Patrick and I weren't serious. That was the whole point when we started seeing each other," Skye said.

"That's what a lot of the specialists stick with – friends with benefits. In Ricky's case, it's more like acquaintances with benefits. He's got quite the little black book," Natasha said with a grin. "Hell, I've thought about tapping that myself. His honeypot missions are fucking legendary."

"I guess it worked with Grant and Ali," Skye snarked, then wished she could snatch the words back. The last thing she wanted to sound like was a jealous shrew. What Grant and Ali did was their business.

Natasha raised a knowing brow. "True. Not recently, though. Ward's been a little busy in the last six months. Speaking of which, I heard he spent Thanksgiving with you."

Skye nibbled her lip. She didn't think she was imagining the double meaning there.

They moved on to safer topics, and Skye convinced Jemma to dance with her as Natasha chatted up two guys at a neighboring table. When they returned, she saw a napkin with a number written on it.

Natasha shrugged. "I'm single. I never said I was a nun."

Jemma nodded off in the back of the taxi, and Natasha and Skye helped her inside, where she went straight for Skye's bed.

"Thanks for tonight," Skye said. "I really needed a night to unwind. It was fun."

"We'll do it again," Natasha told her. Nodding towards a bottle of whiskey on Skye's bar, she said, "One more?" She grabbed two glasses from the overhead cabinets and poured the amber liquid, handing one to Skye before joining her on the sofa.

Skye sipped it and looked around. "I need to do something about Christmas decorations. I was so busy helping my aunt decorate that I never got around to doing any of my own."

"You said you were an orphan. I guess this is the complicated part?"

"My mother's dead. I found my father a few years ago, but… it wasn't exactly a Hallmark reunion. This year I met my aunt – his sister – and her family. They're trying but yeah, it's weird."

"I never had parents either," Natasha said, shrugging. "I grew up in a KGB training center. They conditioned their agents from a young age. I don't even remember anything else."

"I thought the KGB fell in the eighties," Skye said, her gut twisting in sympathy.

"Early nineties," Natasha corrected her. "They called it the Black Widow program. It was orphaned when the KGB fell, but the center had enough funds to continue what they were doing for a while, and then they were absorbed into the FSB. I was working for them in counterespionage when I was recruited by SHIELD. I had so much blood on my hands at that point that they probably should have killed me. Instead they gave me a chance to be someone else."

"Coulson gave me that chance, too," Skye told her. "You know I was a hacktivist with Rising Tide. Coulson could have arrested me for hacking into SHIELD's servers, but instead he took a chance on me. I owe him everything."

"SHIELD's not perfect. It's a big bureaucracy in some ways, but we take care of our own." Natasha placed her glass on the table and looked over at Skye. "I'm the last person you should take relationship advice from since I've never made one work. And I get it – why you're holding back. Ward has his own demons, and he's a tough nut to crack. But with you? He's someone else. I think it's worth exploring."

After she left, Skye sat on the sofa sipping the last of her drink as she thought about what Natasha said. All of the specialists had their demons, and Grant was no different. Other than Trip, the most well-adjusted of the group, none of them seemed to be close to their families. She supposed Quartermain was another exception, but he'd never married or had any other children that she knew about.

She decided to leave it for another day and went to her bedroom to find Jemma sprawled sideways across the bed. Shaking her head, Skye changed into her pajamas, grabbed Mr. Kutterman and two blankets, and went to sleep on the couch.

* * *

Skye welcomed the exhausting workout routine that May put her through early on Monday morning, working up a sweat on the treadmill before doing some reps with weights. They finished with a sparring session.

May threw her a towel when they stopped. "Good work today."

"Thanks," Skye said, proud of how far she'd come in a few short months. She sat on a bench against the wall, sipping her water as she considered May.

"Something on your mind?" May asked, raising a brow.

"I have a question, but it's kind of personal," Skye confessed.

May stared at her for a moment. "The cafeteria has omelets today. Meet me back here in fifteen." She zipped up her bag and headed for the showers.

The cafeteria was already filling up when they went through the line, and they chose a quiet table in the corner by the window.

"Is this about Quartermain?" May asked.

Skye shook her head. "No. Well, kind of. In a roundabout way, I guess." She took a bite of her omelet as she thought about what she wanted to say. "Jemma said there was a joke about specialists at the academy. That if you wanted to be terminally single, become a specialist. But I know Bobbi was married, and you were married. Trip still sees his family, but for the most part, they seem to be loners. I guess I wondered if it's always like that."

"Truth?" When Skye nodded, May said, "Yes. Most of the time it's always like that."

"Why? Is it just because of the missions, or all the time they spend away?" Skye asked. "Because you're here full time, and I know AC's not a specialist, but he's been alone for a while now, too. Ever since Audrey died, he hasn't been the same." Skye had only met his fiancée, Audrey Nathan, a handful of times before she died in a car accident while out of town for a concert.

"Bobbi was married to a mercenary," May explained. "That was doomed before it started because SHIELD always comes first. My husband Andrew wasn't SHIELD, but he did consult for the agency on a regular basis. He's a doctor – a psychiatrist."

"So he knew what you do, which is more than Audrey knew," Skye said. "But it still didn't work?"

"Every specialist is trained to compartmentalize everything, whether it's personal or mission related. When I couldn't do that anymore, we had a problem."

Bahrain. Skye knew that May quit field work after that mission, but it wasn't something the older woman had ever discussed with anyone. Coulson was tight lipped about it, but Skye had long suspected even he didn't know exactly what went down and why it affected May the way it did.

"When you work for SHIELD, the easiest way to maintain a relationship is to choose someone who understands what's at stake," May continued. "Specialists are different. They're too much alike to make it work with one another long term, but they're too different from the average field agent to make that work either."

"Yeah, I figured," Skye said quietly, pushing her omelet around on her plate before taking another bite.

"You and Ward are different."

Skye looked up, surprised. "What?"

"I have eyes, Skye. I can see that something's going on there."

What the hell – she might as well tell her. "I met him a year ago and we had a one night stand. He was gone the next morning when I woke up, and I didn't see him again until he showed up in my department with that hard drive. Since then we've kept things professional."

May raised her brows.

"Mostly professional," Skye amended. "But I'm not naïve. I know it would have been better if I could have felt this way about Patrick. And I think about… I've had so many temporary people in my life. I don't need another temporary relationship. Another person who's going to walk when things get too real or too difficult. I need someone who's going to stay."

"You're afraid to be too emotionally dependent on someone you think might leave," May said.

"Yes," Skye replied. "But it's not just that. I've developed a support system in AC, you, Jemma and Fitz. For the last six months, Grant has been part of that support system. But what happens when he goes undercover again? He won't always be here running flash missions."

"No, probably not."

Skye picked up her napkin and began folding it, smoothing the creases with her fingertips as she thought about how to verbalize her concerns. "I'm not afraid of him being away. I know I can function on my own, and I understand the mission. I could support him in that. But I don't want to be something that has to be compartmentalized, I guess. I want more. Sometimes I think if that's not possible, maybe it's better if we don't even go there again."

That was the crux of the issue. Her own father had compartmentalized her into a mission, and it led to a moment where he'd abandoned her. He'd walked away to keep her safe, but the idea of being compartmentalized like that again scared her.

"Life is risk," May said bluntly. "If it's something that you want badly enough, there's a point where you have to decide if the risk is worth the potential reward. It's true of field work and personal relationships. Looking back, there are things I wish I'd handled differently, but what's done is done."

Skye was surprised that May admitted to having regrets. If possible, she was even more of a closed book than Grant. "Maybe both of us should take stock and re-evaluate our priorities."

May nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe."

* * *

The following weekend, Skye conscripted Grant into a tree shopping excursion. She had invited her aunt and cousins over to her apartment for help decorating her own tree, but first she needed to buy one and get it into her apartment.

After hitting three different lots, she found a tree that was both the perfect size and shape, and Grant carried it back to her apartment and set it up in the corner for her.

"It looks good," he said.

"Do you put up a tree?" Skye asked as she started digging around in the ornament boxes she'd carried up from her storage closet.

"No."

She looked up. "Not even when you're here?"

"This is the first holiday season I've spent in Washington in a few years," Grant reminded her.

"Yeah I know, but you should do something for the holidays. If you don't have the space, we can pick out a small tree." She'd never been to Grant's apartment, though she knew the neighborhood where he lived, and the apartments were generally bigger than hers. She doubted space was the issue.

"I don't really need a tree, Skye," he said patiently as he helped her untangle a string of lights.

"Well no one needs a tree. But it's festive, and pretty, and a cheerful reminder of peace on earth, good will towards men."

"Christmas trees have nothing to do with the religious part of Christmas."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, Scrooge. I'm still helping you pick out a tree next week."

A knock on her door cut off Grant's reply. When she opened it, Alanna was there with Henna and Jenny.

"Hey, come in," Skye said, stepping aside.

Alanna greeted Grant. "It's nice to see you again. Are you helping us with decorations?"

Grant shook his head. "I helped Skye get the tree upstairs, so I'll leave you to it." He grabbed his coat and smiled at Skye. "See you on Monday."

Skye was still smiling when she returned from seeing him out.

"Are you sure there's nothing going on between you two?" Henna asked, her tone teasing. "And if that's true, I'd be working on changing that immediately if I were you."

Skye couldn't help laughing at her cousin.

"I have to agree with Henna," Alanna said. "He looks at you the same way David used to look at me when we started dating."

Everyone kept saying the same thing – that they could see something between her and Grant. Could he really be blind to it, or was he ignoring it because he thought acting on it would be a mistake? She suspected the latter, and spending so much time with him wasn't helping her to figure out the best way to handle it.

"Like I said, we're just friends," Skye said.

Alanna shot her a knowing look, but she dropped it as they turned their attention to tree decorating.

* * *

True to her promise, Skye dragged Grant out to buy a tree for his apartment the following week. He grumbled about it but went along with her plan. When he gave her the keys to unlock the door, she looked around with interest.

The room she entered was an open concept floor plan, and it had the basics – a sofa, a chair, a table, and a flat screen TV were in the living room, which opened into a medium sized kitchen. The island had two chairs and since the small breakfast nook lacked a table, she figured he ate there or in the living room.

A hallway off the kitchen probably led to his bedroom. She was curious but self-aware enough to realize that his bedroom should be off limits if they were trying to avoid complications.

Skye directed Grant in setting up the small tree in the breakfast nook located between the living room and kitchen. It filled up the bare space nicely.

"There," she said, satisfied. "Now we can order lunch and put up the decorations I brought with me."

A couple of hours later they were finished.

"It looks nice," Grant admitted. "I still don't need a tree, but you're right. It's festive."

"I like trees, and Jemma, Fitz and I like driving around in the suburbs to look at the Christmas lights," Skye told him. "We're doing that the weekend after next if you want to come with us."

Grant didn't say anything.

"Or not," she said.

"Elizabeth called to wish me a happy Thanksgiving, and I told her that I'm stationed in Washington right now," Grant said. "She's asked me to come up that weekend. It's just dinner, but Thomas would be there, and she wants me to meet her fiancé."

Skye could see the uncertainty in his eyes. "You should go."

"I'm thinking about it."

She sighed. "Yeah, if you think too much, you won't do it. I should know because I talked myself out of meeting Alanna and my cousins a hundred times before Thanksgiving."

"We have a lot of missions being prepped."

"Most of which are a go for this weekend and the rest are on hold pending intel."

"Some of which might be a go after intel reported at the meeting tomorrow," he countered.

"Speaking of that meeting, I have some intel to report about Castillo. I was going to wait until tomorrow but since we're here and the topic came up…" she trailed off, grinning when he crossed his arms.

"Skye."

"You're no fun." Skye sat back against the sofa. "What would you say if I told you there's a connection between Dr. Synes and Castillo?"

He stared at her. "Are you serious?"

"Yep. Remember how surprised we were that SynesTek was throwing their hat into the weapons ring? And Castillo has always been a petty drug lord – until now. I've been chasing down leads on the dark web for a while, wondering who their contacts were for these weapons, and it occurred to me that the contact might also be funding Castillo's lab."

"You've been running those Tor searches since the Synes mission. Why is it only coming up now?" he asked.

"Because their contact isn't on Tor, which makes sense because Tor is the Google of the dark web – too well known. They've been using a new site called Hornet, and it's hella difficult to track anything there because there are fewer users, less chatter, and no one has developed a Hornet-based search engine. Until now." She tried not to sound too smug, but she was pretty proud of the work she'd done on this project.

"You developed a new search engine."

She nodded. "I'm still working out the kinks, but I'm monitoring one site that I'm sure provided some of the alien tech that both Synes and Castillo were using. But that's not even the most interesting part. I think there's one point of contact for both men, someone they met on Hornet, and I think they're both receiving funding from this contact."

Grant listened carefully as Skye outlined the rest. "I was reviewing financial records we got from SynesTek and noticed some similarities to financials we got from Castillo's hard drives. They both received money transfers from a company called Q-Global. That's a shell company that traced back to I-Tech, yet another shell company. I don't know who's behind those companies yet, but what was interesting is that when I followed the money trail, I found regular purchases from this black site I'm monitoring. It can't be a coincidence."

The smile that broke out across Grant's face made her feel giddy. "Skye, that's great work. We all knew that you were the best person for this job, but you're exceeding expectations by a mile here. Realistically, I thought it would be months before we had anything concrete on either Synes or Castillo."

"I mean, it's still not concrete exactly. Hornet is hard to navigate, and I'm not sure how long it will take to follow the circular trail on these shell companies."

"Rough estimate?"

She nibbled her lip as she thought about it. "If it's only me running down the data, a month? Maybe longer. If I can get some help, that would free me up to start trying to crack this site's firewalls and see if I can track the IP addresses of unique users to the site. That might turn up the contact faster than chasing the shell companies."

Grant stood and held out his hand to pull her up. "I'm sure Hand will approve whatever you need. And dinner's on me tonight. You've definitely earned it."

* * *

Grant was right about Hand. She and Hill listened carefully the next morning as Skye briefed them on what she'd found out.

"That's excellent work, Skye," Hill said with a smile. Looking over at Hand, she added, "I think we can approve anything she needs here."

"Do you know who you'd like to have on your team?" Hand asked.

Her team. It would be her first time as a team leader. Careful to contain her excitement, she nodded. "I've got two in mind."

"Then talk to Daewoo and get it done this morning so you can start after lunch."

When Hand stood up, Skye thought they were done. She was surprised when Hand added, "Good work."

It was slightly grudging, but she'd take it. Skye nodded her acknowledgement.

Downstairs, she approached Greg first. "Hey. Got a minute?"

Greg nodded and tapped a few keys before turning towards her. He'd been out of sorts since her promotion, and she understood. She knew it must be difficult to feel like you were being replaced.

"How would you feel about joining my team to look for a connection between SynesTek and Castillo?" she asked, jumping straight to the point.

His interest was immediate. "You found a connection?"

"I did, but the third party is good at hiding. They're using Hornet."

Greg's face fell. "I don't know much about Hornet."

"I can handle Hornet. I want you to go through the financials and track everything from both Synes and Castillo. There's a shell company that sent money to both, and I want you to see what you can turn up there, too. It's a lot of data. How do you feel about working with Freemont?"

"We've worked well together before." He was starting to look excited. "When do we start?"

"After lunch. I've booked a small conference room, and that will be our temporary office for the foreseeable future. I'm going to talk to Freemont and Mrs. Daewoo now."

"Okay." Before she turned away, he called out. "Hey Skye? Thanks. I appreciate this."

"I think we'll make a good team," she told him. "And don't thank me yet because we're going to be pulling a lot of late nights."

* * *

Skye realized how right she was about the late nights a week later. She, Greg and Freemont had worked all weekend and stayed in the office until at least ten, sometimes later, over the following week. She'd cut her daily training sessions down to twice a week, and she'd given up her long lunches in order to accommodate all her projects and mission prep.

She was getting closer. Whoever was running the site on Hornet was a pro, but she was sure she'd find a way in soon.

Soon turned out to be Friday evening. Once she was in, she started sorting through the IP addresses. When she tracked one to Austin, she felt a sense of foreboding. Working all night yielded results; by Saturday morning, she was staring at a list of offenses as long as her arm. And she could trace them all back to Miles Lydon.

Miles had left Rising Tide behind to work for Quinn Worldwide, and it looked like he'd left his thirst for truth and justice behind along with it. Miles was her point of contact, but there was no way he had the money to fund Castillo's lab. Grabbing the printouts that Greg and Freemont had left for her before heading home the previous evening, she went through the list of shell companies: Q Global, I Tech, I.Q.W. The list went on, and the sheer hubris of his naming conventions was staggering. Maybe she couldn't prove it on paper yet, but Ian Quinn was in this up to his thousand dollar neckties.

"Skye?"

She looked up to see Coulson in the doorway, looking at her with concern. "Were you here all night?"

She glanced at her watch to see that it was just after nine. "Yeah. What are you doing here on a Saturday morning?"

"Mostly checking on you. You weren't answering your phone." His tone was admonishing. "When did you last eat?"

Skye yawned and rubbed her eyes as she thought about it. "Grant dropped off dinner around six last night before his flight to Boston. I found something though. I need to call a meeting because I think I know who's funding Castillo and turning SynesTek towards alien weaponry."

"Hand and Hill are both coming in for a briefing around noon. It can wait until you've eaten and had a couple of hours rest." When she opened her mouth to protest, he said, "No arguments."

She grumbled a little but relented since Freemont and Greg weren't due back in until noon, either. "Fine."

Food, a nap on the sofa in Coulson's office, and a large coffee had her feeling much more alert by the time she was sitting around a table with Coulson, Greg, Freemont, Hand, Hill, Natasha, Trip and Quartermain. She guessed she shouldn't be surprised to see her father there, but she was. She wondered if he'd asked to be on call because Grant was out of town.

Skye was brief as she outlined what she'd found, and she passed around copies of the intel connecting the black site to Miles and Miles to Quinn.

"I agree that this isn't a coincidence," Hill said. "The names of the shell companies all but confirm it. Quinn was always a smug bastard."

"You know him?" Skye asked.

"This isn't the first time he's landed on our radar," Hand answered. "He's taken a lot of his business overseas in order to avoid monitoring by intelligence agencies."

"Well he's in D.C. now, and he's hosting a party that starts this afternoon with a champagne brunch and ends with a five course dinner this evening," Skye told them. "It's at his estate in Fairfax County."

"What do you know about Lydon?" Coulson asked her.

"We dated," she admitted. "But after I made the decision to cut off contact with Rising Tide, I never saw him or talked to him again."

"And you're sure he's in Austin?" Hill asked.

"Yes. That's where he's from. He seems to do a lot of work for Quinn remotely, but I've tracked him to Malta a few times."

"Which is where Quinn has moved much of his operation. I heard he's applied for citizenship there," Coulson said. "We could pick Lydon up, but we don't have enough to link him to Quinn yet. And we know from past experience that if we pick Quinn up, he'll be out of custody and aboard his private jet in an hour, tops."

"Quinn probably carries portable servers with him. I'm sure his main servers are in Malta where they can't be monitored, but there's no way a tech giant like Quinn doesn't keep backups of certain information close at hand, and he's too smart to store it on a cloud that could be hacked." Skye tapped a few keys on her computer and projected a holograph layout of Quinn's estate. "I'm not getting any kind of Wi-Fi signal out of this place, and the party invitation stated that guests would relinquish their tablets and phones at the door. There's a private network linked via satellite, but his servers and security aren't connected to it."

"We need to get someone inside his party," Hand said. "If he has portable servers, that information could be invaluable. We have the technology to clone phones and hard drives. Can that be modified for a portable server?"

"It already has been," Skye said. "It's something Stark has been working on. Depending on the size and the number, cloning shouldn't take more than ten to fifteen minutes."

"Judging by past functions at his estate, the guest list and the perimeter will be locked down tighter than the Fridge," Coulson told Hand. "I'm not sure it's something we can crack in a few hours."

"We don't have to," Skye told him. She held up her phone. "It looks like my e-vite just came through."

"How did you manage that?" Hill asked.

"I hacked his satellite and found one mobile device linked to it. I assumed it was his, I engaged his curiosity, and he wants to meet me."

Quartermain had remained a silent observer but chose that moment to speak up. "You're not cleared for field work."

"It's a party. I can bring a guest, and they can slip away while I'm talking to him. I'm not suggesting that I channel my inner Bond or anything." Skye tried to keep the irritation from her tone since maintaining her professional demeanor was important to her.

"I can go in with her," Natasha said. "We have the floor plans here. We should be able to narrow down the likeliest places to keep computers or portable servers since he wouldn't keep them near the guests. A well timed perimeter breach would distract his security teams, allowing me to clone the servers. Skye can leave as soon as I'm in."

"It's a bad idea," Quartermain said evenly.

Hill looked over at him. "Do you have a better one?" When he remained silent, she continued. "Skye, you'll be wearing a silent tracker. It won't be picked up by security scans because it only turns on when activated manually. If you think you're in trouble, Romanoff can come get you. But you should be the first one out. That means you follow the protocol to the letter from start to finish no matter what happens. Understood?"

"Understood." Skye felt some of the same excitement she'd felt about the SynesTek mission. "My biggest problem right now is getting rid of these dark circles and finding something to wear."

Natasha smiled. "We have that covered."

One trip to a high end salon and two hours later, Skye turned sideways to look at her dress in the mirror. "I can't believe SHIELD owns a spa and Coulson didn't tell me." The entire place was staffed by SHIELD personnel and the ladies had whisked Skye away for hair, makeup and a manicure, all done in record time before they'd given her three dresses to try on. She'd chosen a long sleeved knit dress in winter white. The hem was modest, but the daring décolletage made up for that.

Natasha joined her in front of the mirror. Wearing a black wig and a wrap dress in a deep shade of port, she looked completely different. "If Quinn asks, and I'm sure he will, I'm your girlfriend Tasha."

That was unexpected. She glanced sideways at Natasha. "He thinks my name is Daisy. Why girlfriend?"

"Because men are simple creatures, and that is a cover that almost always flies under their radar. Bring a boyfriend, two things happen – they get territorial, suspicious, or both. Bring a girlfriend, they're imagining taking us both to bed." Natasha turned to her and pulled Skye closer, meeting her gaze. "Relax. We'll hold hands, maybe dance, exchange a few whispers. Attraction is simple, too. You just have to know how to use it."

Skye swallowed hard. She felt slightly weak-kneed, and even she could tell she was only getting a small taste of Natasha's seduction skills. She pitied any man – or woman – who found themselves the target of her full on offensive.

* * *

Quinn's 14,000 square foot estate was inspired by the Chateau de Chambord in France. While only a couple of stoplights from D.C. and less than thirty minutes' walk from the Potomac, it was settled on two plus acres and surrounded by National Forest, creating the illusion that you were in the countryside.

Trip had set up his team just outside the property line, hidden away in the forest. Quartermain was acting as their driver, and the first security checkpoint was at the entrance to Quinn's winding, private drive. Skye scanned her e-vite and they drove on until they reached the circular drive in front of the large, stone dwelling. The fading, winter sunlight reflected against the sparkling windowpanes, and the sconces were already lit in preparation for evening.

Natasha looked at Skye. "Remember, once I leave you, you should try to keep him engaged for ten minutes before excusing yourself to find me. Be casual – he might be watching you. Get a glass of wine, have some hor d'oeuvres, chat with other guests. There's a glass atrium in the back, a pool, a gourmet outdoor kitchen, and a wine grotto – chances are they'll be heated and open to guests, so that's a good way to exit before heading around to the car. We're running on old school radio signals that shouldn't be picked up by Quinn's security team. If you even think you're in trouble, turn on your tracker."

Skye nodded as nerves began to settle in. "I'm ready."

Quartermain helped her out. "Be careful."

At the door, Skye scanned her e-vite again before relinquishing her phone and entering the formal, two-story foyer. Arms linked, she and Natasha made their way into the large, formal living room. A fire crackled cheerily to her left, and a waiter materialized with offers of wine almost immediately.

Skye sipped her glass of red. "Wow, this is the good stuff." While she didn't know much about wine, she could tell it was far better than the ten dollar bottles she occasionally picked up on weekends.

"It's a Richebourg," Natasha said. "Fifteen grand a bottle. He's showing off for someone here."

She tried not to choke on the sip of wine she'd just taken. "Are you kidding me?"

Natasha laughed and slipped her arm around Skye's waist. Leaning down, she whispered, "Quinn is at your three o'clock, and we've got his attention."

Skye took another sip of wine before casually perusing the guests. When she met Quinn's eyes, she returned his smile before allowing Natasha to lead her to the other side of the room. They completed a slow circuit of the downstairs rooms, all of which were open. As Natasha had guessed earlier, the heated outdoor areas were also open to guests. More sconces lit the way as dusk settled, and chefs were busy preparing finger foods in the outdoor kitchen.

They were circling back to the living room when they crossed paths with Quinn.

His smile was quick and charming as he held out a hand to Skye. "Ian Quinn. I don't believe we've met."

"Daisy," she answered.

"Ah, I thought as much. You know, you're the first person who's ever hacked my satellite. I've been looking forward to talking to you all afternoon. I'm afraid you missed the brunch though, and the late supper is scheduled for eight."

"We can wait." Skye selected an appetizer from the tray of a passing waiter. Remembering what Natasha said, she took a delicate bite before raising it to Natasha's lips. Her friend's green eyes sparkled with amusement as her lips wrapped around the morsel of food, tongue flicking over her fingertips, before she brushed her lips against Skye's.

From the corner of her eye, she could tell that Quinn was captivated by their little scene. He cleared his throat and asked, "And who is your guest?"

Skye looked back at him. "My girlfriend, Tasha."

Natasha allowed him to take her hand. "French architecture, French wine – this is the kind of party I like."

"And it's the kind of party you can get used to if Daisy and I can come to an agreement tonight," he told her. "I have a feeling Malta would suit you both."

As Skye suspected, he was courting her hacking skills. Natasha feigned boredom with the topic extremely well, and Quinn barely blinked when she wandered away in search of more of the Richebourg.

Conscious of the time and the need to keep his attention, Skye dropped hints to some of her former activities and claimed credit for a few subversive actions against SHIELD and the CIA. "The info dump on the Chitauri invasion was one of mine."

"You sound like you have as much distaste for government agencies as I do."

Skye fell back into her anti-government rhetoric. "They're liars, hiding the truth of dangers to the public."

"You're not wrong. How do you feel about working for a large company like mine?"

Skye shrugged. "It depends on how interesting the work is. I hacked your satellite mostly because I was bored."

Quinn laughed. "Well, I'll try very hard not to bore you." A man across the room signaled to him. "Daisy, I've seated you and Tasha with me for dinner, but I do have a few other guests to speak with before then."

"I look forward to it," Skye replied.

Per Natasha's instructions, she talked to some of the other guests before walking outside. She placed a few appetizers on a small plate, snagged a glass of wine and sat at one of the tables. She'd clocked a member of Quinn's security detail following her inside the house, but they apparently weren't concerned about her presence outside because he was gone now.

Leaving her plate and glass on the table, she walked around the pool and through the glass atrium that housed an orangery. She took her time, mingling with a few other guests who were investigating the grounds, and emerged on the other side to find it was a little less well-lit than the rest of the property. The wine grotto was the last building she passed on the walkway that led back to the front of the house, and most of the guests had congregated closer to the outdoor heaters that surrounded the outdoor kitchen.

Skye was passing the open door to the grotto when she heard voices, one of which sounded familiar. She slowed, trying to place the person talking. She hesitated a few moments more and then stepped cautiously into the doorway of the grotto, slipped off her heels and tiptoed down the few steps before peeking around the corner.

She was stunned to see Anderson standing with Agent Sitwell, who was talking to Quinn. The words were muffled, but she didn't have to hear the conversation to know that there was no good reason for either man to be there. They weren't part of this mission, nor were they privy to the details of the SynesTek and Castillo missions. Castillo had fallen under Hand, and Sitwell often worked closely with her, but Hand had instituted a closed door policy on meetings ever since Skye reported on the possibility of a connection between Synes and Castillo. Only a select few had been in the meetings held since then, and Sitwell wasn't one of them.

The conversation was apparently over, and Skye was careful not to make a sound as the three men left the grotto through the entrance that led back to the house. She checked her watch and decided that enough time had passed. Turning and walking back up the steps, she paused to slip her shoes back on and barely stifled a cry when she was jerked around the side of the building.

"I thought I heard something," Anderson said conversationally. "You shouldn't be here. And I can't have you telling anyone I was here, so we have a problem. Who are you with?"

Skye broke his hold with a move that May had taught her and kicked off her heels for better balance as she put a couple of feet between them.

He grinned. "I've seen you training with Agent May. I'll even be fair about this, let you have the first swing. Then you're going to tell me why you're here."

Her tracker was in her earring and Skye reached up to squeeze the post that would activate it. She hoped the move would go unnoticed by Anderson, but it didn't.

"Well that was cheating."

He advanced on her, and Skye only landed one punch before he had her pinned against the side of the grotto. No one could see them on this side of the building, and she bit at the hand covering her mouth, and she felt a surge of satisfaction when her knee connected with his groin.

His hand moved to her throat, and she choked, clawing desperately at him in an attempt to get away. Then he leaned into her and she felt his knife blade sink into her abdomen. It was searing fire followed by icy cold, and she whimpered when he leaned in, putting his weight on the hilt.

"Shhh," he said quietly. "This isn't really what I had in mind for you, but it'll do."

The blade slipped out and back in, and she could taste her own blood. Suddenly Anderson cursed and he was gone, leaving Skye to slide down the side of the grotto. The lights of the sconces danced in her vision. Her stomach felt warm, and she placed her hands over the wound.

She thought she was imagining Natasha's presence at first, but her steady hands were real.

"Fuck," Natasha muttered. "Skye, you need to stay awake."

"It doesn't hurt anymore," Skye mumbled. Strangely, it didn't. She felt like she was floating as a dark figure materialized from the woods, and they carried her along the perimeter of the drive and put her in the back of the town car. Natasha stayed beside her, pressing something on her stomach.

"Please." Skye needed to tell her about Anderson and Sitwell, but she couldn't seem to make her tongue form the words.

"We're going to get you help," Natasha told her.

Skye tried to shake her head, but the small movement made her dizzy. "Tell you."

Natasha leaned down. "Tell me what? Do you know who did this?"

Coughing against the blood in her throat, Skye struggled to raise her head only to find Natasha leaning down further to hear her. "Tell Grant… sorry." And she was sorry – sorry that she'd been impulsive. It was the one thing Grant kept warning against when it came to field work, and she'd let him down. She let all of them down.

Licking her lips, she whispered, "Anderson." The look in Natasha's eyes changed, hardened, and Skye knew she understood.

She started fading in and out. The darkness of the town car gave way to a medical bay. She was on a gurney, and Quartermain was beside her. Was he crying? She wondered if she was dreaming now.

"You'll be okay," he was saying as he smoothed her hair back from her face.

Skye felt cold again, and she shivered. Her father's face was the last thing she saw before the darkness descended.

 **A/N: Don't hate me for this evil cliffie! We pick up from Natasha's POV in the next story, and the way it's written now we back up to where she realizes that Skye didn't make it out before her. I haven't had a lot of time for editing lately, so as always, please let me know if you see anything I should fix. I changed some things around in this chapter, especially towards the end, so I could have goofed something somewhere that I didn't notice upon proofreading.**

 **Up Next: This is what it feels like (and it hurts) – Part 6 of The Head and the Heart. I'll try to get the first part of that story up in the next week or so. I'd like to do a little tweaking, but I know you'd probably like to have that pretty soon, right? Thanks for reading!**


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